#scene 8

MELCHIOR: 

27 November. The trouble is: the terrible prerogative of the ... Parentocracy in Secondary Education… 

Ext. School - Afternoon. 

FRAULEIN KNUPPLEDICK grabs MORITZ’S shoulder.

FRAULEIN KNUPPELDICK: 

Herr Stiefel, may we have a word with you?

MORITZ follows FRAULEIN KNUPPLEDICK into Herr Knochenbruch’s office.

Ext. Forest - Afternoon

MELCHIOR continues in his journal.

MELCHIOR:

 ... a world where teachers-like parents-view us as merely so much raw material for an obedient and productive society ... 

Int. Office - Afternoon. 

FRAULEIN KNUPPLEDICK and HERR KNOCHENBRUCH sit behind the desk, conferencing with MORITZ. MELCHIOR’S writing turns into a voice over.

. .. a unified, military-like body, where all that is weak must be hammered away ... 

MORITZ steps out, looking like a ghost.

... where the progress of the students reflects back only on the rank and order of the faculty, and therefore a single low mark can be seen as a threat to­-

WENDLA: 

Melchior?

Ext. Forest - Afternoon

WENDLA jolts MELCHIOR out of his writing.

MELCHIOR:

You?!

WENDLA shrugs.

WENDLA: 

I was lying by the stream, and then ... I saw you here …

MELCHIOR: 

Yes.

(An awkward pause.)

WENDLA: 

So.

MELCHIOR: 

So. The stream. Dreaming again?

WENDLA: 

I was, I guess.

MELCHIOR: 

And, what were you dreaming of?

WENDLA: 

It's silly.

MELCHIOR: 

Tell me.

WENDLA hesitates. 

WENDLA: 

I dreamed I was a clumsy little girl who spilt my father's coffee. And when he saw what I had done, he yanked out his belt and whipped me.

MELCHIOR: 

Wendla, that kind of thing doesn't happen anymore. Only in stories.

WENDLA: 

Martha Bessell is beaten almost every evening-the next day, you can see the welts. It's terrible. Really, it makes you furious to hear her about it. Lately, I can't think about anything else.

MELCHIOR: 

Someone should call child services.

WENDLA: 

You know ... I've never been beaten. Not once. I can't even imagine it. It must be just awful.

MELCHIOR: 

I don't believe anyone is ever better for it.

WENDLA: 

I've tried hitting myself-to find out how it feels, really, inside. 

WENDLA grabs a split branch from the ground.

With this switch, for example? It's tough. And thin. 

WENDLA offers MELCHIOR the switch. He takes it. Tries it, through the air.

MELCHIOR:

 It'd draw blood.

WENDLA: 

You mean if you beat me with it?

MELCHIOR: 

Beat you?

WENDLA: 

Me.

MELCHIOR: 

Wendla, what are you thinking?!

WENDLA: 

Nothing.

MELCHIOR: 

I could never beat you.

WENDLA: 

But if I let you?

MELCHIOR: 

Never.

WENDLA: 

But if I asked you to?

MELCHIOR: 

Have you lost your mind?

WENDLA: 

Martha Bessell, she told me-

MELCHIOR: 

Wendla! You can't envy someone being beaten.

WENDLA: 

But I've never been even hit-my entire life. I've never ... felt …

MELCHIOR: 

What?

WENDLA: 

Anything. 

(No response.) 

Please. Melchior ... 

WENDLA turns around, and stops. MELCHIOR hesitates, then gently strikes her.

I don't feel it!

MELCHIOR: Maybe not, with your dress on. 

WENDLA hikes her skirt, offering MELCHIOR the prospect of her somewhat more exposed backside.

WENDLA: 

On my legs, then.

MELCHIOR: 

Wendla!

WENDLA: 

Come on. Please.

MELCHIOR: I'll teach you to say: "Please" ... 

He firmly takes her by the arm, and strikes her with the switch.

WENDLA (Wincing): 

You're barely stroking me. 

He strikes her again.

MELCHIOR: 

How's that then?

WENDLA: 

Martha's father, he uses his belt. He draws blood, Melchi. 

MELCHIOR strikes her again.

MELCHlOR: 

How's that?

WENDLA (A lie): 

Nothing.

MELCHIOR: 

And that?

WENDLA: 

Nothing.

MELCHIOR: 

You bitch. I'll beat the hell out of you.

MELCHIOR flings the switch aside and throws WENDLA to the ground, so violently that she begins sobbing. Suddenly, he realizes what he's done. He stumbles, sobbing, into the willows. OTTO and GEORG, sailing down the river, spot WENDLA and stop the boat. They watch from afar.

OTTO:

Oh, you're gonna be wounded.

Oh, I'm gonna be your wound

OTTO AND GEORG:

Oh, I'm gonna bruise you.